Shadowplayer
by ChloeRhiannonX
Summary: When an unbranded Shadowplayer rises from the ashes, the Witch Hunters are in for more than what they bargained for when it comes to taking him down. They can't trace him, and his fascination with a certain young witch puts the youngest Hunter on edge...
1. Prologue

_**Shadowplayer**_

 _ **Prologue**_

Once upon a time, many centuries ago, there lived a species of people so rare, so special, they were hunted for their abilities.

Rumor spread throughout the countries that these people were cursed with magic. They were evil, the Devils own creations. They could perform tasks impossible to man. Word of one woman setting an entire village ablaze with just a flick of her wrist, of a man floating in midair attacking those who came near, of children with eyes as dark as the hell in which they came.

There was nothing stopping the destruction that came. Villages torn down, lives destroyed. People would go missing, never to be seen again. Orphaned children. Farms abandoned. Food shortages and drought engulfed all forms of life. No one knew how to stop it, to make it go away. These people, these _things_ , would stop at nothing until the had rid the world of humans.

They were branded as Witches.

And once they were branded, they became all the more terrifying. They were once distinguishable with a devils mark cursed upon them, but they learnt to adapt, to hide themselves among the norm. There was no telling them from your neighbor, your friend, your family. It scared the population into hiding, into never seeing the light of day.

That was, until _they_ stepped forward.

They had no name, a group of hooded figures with a means of tracking down the Witches. No one knew where they came from, but they stormed through the lands in constant search. The only way they knew to end these clever creatures was with fire. They tore through buildings, dragging those accused out into the cold night, before throwing them to the pyre they kept ever burning.

It lasted years, then decades, then centuries. The destruction never ceased, but offenders were always caught and sentenced to immediate death. It had become a daily task for the hooded figures, who had been branded by the villages as The Hunters. They passed this art down through generations of families, each one a little stronger. But as they evolved and grew, so did their enemies.

The Witches took post, fighting back as best they could, but when all else failed, they became something else.

Upon one raid, late into the 18th century, The Hunters cornered a particularly slippery Witch. Her eyes gleamed with darkness and a wicked smile unsettled the men. And then she was gone. Right before their eyes, the shadows cast around her like a winter cloak, blacking out The Hunter's vision, and when they seized forward she was gone. She had disappeared on the spot, proving her impossible nature plausible.

 _Shadowplayers._

As time went on they became all the more popular, escaping punishment by hiding in the shadows of which they were formed. The Hunters were at an end, not knowing how to defeat this new breed. They fought all they wanted, but more of their own fell than of theirs. They were outsmarted, outnumbered.

Then it stops.

All History textbooks fall short of what happened next. Old wives tales passed around fires will make up the gaps, but no one knows for certain what went down in those darkest of days.

The story skips to the Council; a group made up half of Witches, half of humans. They formed a law, an agreement, that Witches are allowed to practice their powers in secret, out of the eye of others, in exchange that any of those caught exposing themselves- or worse, reverting back to their old destructive natures- would be severely punished by The Hunters.

This Law was passed and continues to be in practice today. Witches hide away their powers from the masses, and shadows have not been played with in hundreds of years. But still The Hunters remain, dwindling in numbers, but always there. They watch over, they protect. They do what must be done by any means necessary. Waiting the out the day their power is needed in number once more.

 **A/N: Eh.**

 **This was basically a big build up so like I hope you guys are intrigued.**

 **Fun fact: I've never started a story with Once Upon A Time before (I think)**

 **This is the story I started writing for NaNoWriMo this year. I haven't completed it but I got a few chapters in...like 4.5 or something chapters written.**

 **And this is also the second story posted in two days...I may just go on an upload binge and you'll see a shit ton of stories from me that will never be updated XD**

 **Thoughts? Predictions? Rude comments about my lack of updating?**

 **Thanks for reading, please review (:**

 **Love, ChloeRhiannonX**


	2. Chapter 1

**Shadowplayer**

 **Chapter One**

All of Duncan's life he had felt as if all roads led him back to one thought:

 _I do not want to be doing this right now._

No matter what situation his father threw him into, Duncan couldn't escape thinking that sentence. It was a mantra bedded so deeply into his brain that not thinking it made him feel queasy.

At this particular moment, Duncan found himself running down George Street in broad daylight with a flashing light in his hand. If it wasn't for the badge pinned distractedly to his chest he would have been stopped by the cops by now. Passers-by, however, still stared at him as he went, making him feel even more the oddball freak than usual. Usually these occurrences happened at night, when most people were locked away in their houses, but all it took was one daring person and Duncan's inability to say no to his father, and here he was, looking like an idiot in the middle of his hometown.

The chemically damaged pavement beneath his feet almost sent him diving into the undergrowth- which would not have been a pleasant trip- and the crowds of people around for the May festival were not easy to push through at high speeds.

Duncan could hear the crackle of sound coming from his belt, his walkie carrying the broken voice of his partner. Nothing distinguishable so Duncan kept running in hopes of catching up. His breath had not run short yet, but he wondered how much longer he could keep going.

The warehouse from which the sighting had come was not much further, or so he thought he remembered, but Duncan didn't know what he was looking for once he arrived. The thoughts of landing back on another empty case was not what he wanted. He didn't want cases at all, if he could help it. That thought was the prominent one in his head as he ran.

The burnt down building was as he remembered from when he was young. Ten years later it still smelled to him like his old science classroom. When Duncan stood in the doorway, staring down the corridor to the left, he could see his fathers memory floating there as if it had never moved.

 _"For once in your life, Duncan, do something right!" The old man bellowed, throwing his young son forward into the building._

 _All Duncan clutched in his hand was an empty test tube. He hadn't been trained for this kind of mission yet, all his home-studies focused on the physical side of this job. He didn't know what hid father expected of him. He was shaking all over. Not from fear of the building, of fear from doing this all wrong. Before he could even reach the first door, he heard his father calling to him again,_

 _"If your brother was here he'd have the job done already!"_

It took Geoff to wake him from that horror, shouting his name from outside.

Duncan left the warehouse where it stood, not unsettling any more ghosts.

He found his partner standing outside with the team. The van pulled up from behind the abandoned building, the company logo glowing in the sun. Duncan felt like vomiting.

"Whatever was here is long gone," Geoff told him, his eyes on the smashed windows behind.

"Wouldn't be the first time," Duncan snorted in return. The pair weren't new to failed cases. "I shouldn't even be here."

"He called you in specifically."

"I'm going back on patrol."

Duncan didn't make it back to patrol. He had been stationed at the square, keeping an eye out for suspicious activity, but before he made it back to the corner of George Street and Maybush, he saw the shadows moving.

The darkness often played tricks on the minds of The Hunters, Duncan had been taught all about it, but he knew what he saw, and against his training, he pursued.

From behind, Duncan whispered into his own mind.

 _Male. Tall, around 6 feet. Hoodie too big to tell body build. Not conspicuous, blended in with hood covering head. No distinguishable features to be seen._

If he lost him in a crowd, there was no finding him again, so Duncan did his best to keep an eye out. But with just a blink he was almost gone. Duncan followed him with his eyes into the doorway, then quickly moved to do the same. There were immediate stairs taking him down and a thudding sound from below that could only be mistaken for an overblown bass.

Duncan couldn't see the man in sight, so he moved as quietly as he could downwards in the only direction he could have gone. As he moved, the music got louder and Duncan was starting to wish this man had moved into a bomb factory rather than what lied ahead.

The beaded curtain was changing colors too fast for Duncan to keep up. He tried to brace himself for entering, but nothing could prepare you for a Witch bar. As he pushed himself past the framed doorway, the music intensified. It was bleeding from his ears and spreading to his toes, shaking his body from side to side as he walked. Duncan kept one hand on the side railing, walking across the gangplank. He could see below clearly, the patrons and the bartenders. The concoctions being served were not likely legal, and Duncan could have them written up on any offences as he searched the one room. But he couldn't find what he was looking for. The man was not in sight.

He continued looking regardless, and as he moved forward a wave of people moved towards the exit. Not a lot were sticking around for him. A smirk traced Duncan's lips as he watched the bar empty; clearing a room was one of his many talents. Once he was on the ground floor among those remaining, most too stoned to sense his presence, Duncan could see the waitress' staring at him, watching his moves. No one came closer, they all kept their distance.

The smell of flavored smoke hung in the air, and Duncan knew that was what they were afraid of. It wasn't his first time entering this kind of establishment, he was well aware of the consequences these _people_ were under threat from.

He took a seat at the bar, wondering if they knew that velvet stools had gone out of fashion in the seventies. The smirk on his face did him no favors, he noticed, when the young female bartender scowled at him. He watched her for a moment, her movements were fluid, casual, but tense. His presence was unwanted and he could tell by the way she was on the only barmaid left that she was the one-a different one- he was supposed to be looking for.

"I haven't done anything wrong," were the first words out of her mouth, her voice so fierce it burnt in her eyes like a wildfire. "You have no reason to be in here."

"There's no reason why I shouldn't," he countered, wanting her to explode. He could see in her eyes she was going to. He leaned in closer, reading her name-badge, "Courtney."

"Leave. Now."

"Tut, tut," Duncan coughed, straightening up on the stool. "Don't you have any manners at all?"

"Not for the likes of you," she snarled, her teeth bared as if ready to rip out his throat like the wild animal he suspected she was. Duncan wondered for a moment if he should let her, but he was having too much fun in his teasing. He knew the effect he had on the Witches. When you were someone of his status, you never went down too well with the guilty ones.

"No respect for authority at all. I could have you arrested, have you killed."

"If it means it gets you out of my bar then go ahead."

Duncan could see she wasn't going to back down. He liked a challenge to play with, even one as dark and mysterious as her. Witches weren't his type, but with a lick of his lips, he thought he could make an exception.

"I'm Duncan, by the way," he introduced, holding out his hand in fair greeting.

"Get out of my bar, Duncan," she replied, staring him down, unblinking. Courtney kept her hands firm on the wooden bar, no fear showing. He figured this wasn't her first time dealing with unwanted Hunters ruining her business. "You can come back when you have a written consent letter from the Council to be in here."

"Oh, honey, I iami the council."

She didn't say anything after that, so with one last cocky grin, Duncan made himself scarce.

 **A/N: And thus the actual story commences...**

 **Thoughts? I am honestly quite proud of this.**

 **I forgot to mention in the last chapter that this is somewhat based on The Last Witch Hunter! It was a good movie...not as good as I thought it was gonna be, if I'm honest, but definitely quenched my ever growing hunger for Witches and magic.**

 **I was gonna wait until the weekend to post this, but I am excited slash still sick slash celebrating, so enjoy it while you can :D**

 **Thanks for reading, please review (:**

 **Love, ChloeRhiannonX**


	3. Chapter 2

_**Shadowplayer**_

 _ **Chapter Two**_

His head was pounding. Someone had opened the curtains on the far side of the room and the sun was reflecting through the bottle he'd dropped on the floor, lighting up his face in a pale green glow. Duncan hated mornings like this, but the nights before were too tempting to pass up. But the worst part of his morning was his fathers booming voice shouting down corridors.

The commotion from downstairs could be heard through the floorboards. Fights were common place but loud fights usually meant there was a missing or failed case. If his father had finally reached the bottom of the pile, that meant Duncan and Geoff's warehouse case was the cause of that anger and the last thing Duncan needed was more reasons to bury his head under his pillow and never see the light of day again.

But he moved from his bed eventually when the soft knock on the door came around midday. The yelling had stopped for now, and Duncan cautiously made his way down the stairs where Gwen was waiting for him by the front door.

"Took you long enough," she quipped, keeping one eye on him and the other outside. "Heard your case went to Hell. Again."

"Oh, you heard that?" Duncan asked, feigning ignorance.

"Half the fucking street heard it," Gwen smirked. She leaned on one hip, her hair falling into her eyes, the way Duncan hated it. He knew she didn't swipe it away on purpose. "When are you and Geoff going to get your act together?"

"When you join us in an epic threesome." Gwen raised an eyebrow. "You can go to Hell yourself, you know what I meant."

Duncan considered going with her for a moment, hopping out the door before his father could catch him. But Geoff was probably already taking a beating for refusing to be put with another partner, and Gwen's own partner was more likely waiting for her out in the car. Heather was a nightmare Duncan didn't want to deal with before breakfast. Or after breakfast, for that matter.

So instead he sucked in a breath and made his way to the kitchen. Passing the meeting room, he was called in by one of the older Hunters he didn't know by name. Duncan didn't know a lot of the people living in this house by name, only the few he chose to associate himself with. They were all in and out a lot, it wasn't easy to keep up, even if Duncan cared enough.

And then there was his father. He was sitting at head of the table, his stern gaze bearing down on Duncan as he entered the the once lavish dining room; now the table was piled high with case files, stray pieces of paper lined the pale painted walls, tacked up with the hopes that came with each new Law breaker.

Mr. Evans was an old man. His graying hair had taken a lot of stress but his face had taken the worst. Everyone told Duncan that he had inherited his fathers eyes, but staring across the table to the man he never knew, he couldn't compare his own to the tiredness, the lifelessness of his fathers. He sat there coldly, staring down his son in disappointment.

"I have one final case for you, Duncan." His father spoke quietly to him, shaking the house with his words. "It might have some connection to this alleged Shadowplayer you saw the other day, but there has been another sighting of a Shadowplayer, this time by an Innocent."

* * *

The shop was quiet, out of the way. The shabby front left it unnoticed to the outside world. Duncan had passed down this street every day of his life, but he had never noticed the antiques store tucked just to the side of the movie theater.

 _I do not want to be doing this right now._

The inside wasn't much better, the whole place disorganized and cluttered, and dark. Duncan flickered on his flashlight to see where he was going only to find that he had no idea where that was. In the end he had to listen to hear where Geoff's voice was coming from, a much brighter room at the rear.

 _I do not want to be doing this right now._

The witness in question was pale, shivering, not meeting anyone's eyes. A member of the team had wrapped a branded blanket around her shoulders which made Duncan want to retreat far away, but Geoff was already catching him up.

"She says a hooded man came in here around an hour ago, he browsed at first but then was demanding to see a particular item." Geoff sounded uncertain, that didn't sit well with Duncan. He frowned, turning towards the witness. She didn't turn to look at him, her eyes were focused on a spot on the floor, her expression unwavering. Duncan crouched down in front of her.

"What did he look like?"

"Dunc-" But Duncan held up a hand to silence his partner. He had told Geoff about the Shadowplayer he had seen enter the Witch bar, who had, in turn, told his father. Now all of The Hunters knew about the sighting and were whispering behind his back at home. There were very few unbranded Shadowplayers left in the world, so how come it was Duncan that got to find one?

The old woman was shaking as she spoke up, quietly whispering her words, "He was dark. He was c-covered in _shadows_. He controlled them, they followed him. I did not see a face, but he spoke- he shouted. He was not Canadian, he's from a distant land, like myself...I don't know where."

"What did he come in here for? What item did he ask to see?"

The woman gasped, shaking further. Duncan felt Geoff's hand on his shoulder but he ignored him, asking again, "What item did he want?"

"A box. An old, ancient box. I came across it when I was very young, at a flea market. It was marked all over," the woman explained, gesturing with her hands, eyes not lifting from a spot just above Duncan's head. "It was covered in markings, a scripture in an old language. Nothing I knew. I was fascinated, always kept it. It wasn't for sale, just on a shelf by the till."

She was paler now, every part of her shaking with despair. Geoff stepped in before Duncan could push any further than that. He had had less to go on before, but before he'd never participated in cases as seriously as this. Why had he been the one to see the Shadowplayer?

* * *

It had been a busy night for a Tuesday. The bar was one of the few Witch-only exclusives in the town, which made it a hot spot. The illegal drinks and substances were just an extra.

She was closing up alone, as usual, but for once Courtney couldn't shake the feeling she wasn't so alone. She'd done two rounds of the place already, there were no lost or unconscious patrons left hanging around, so she put it down to general anxiety. Since that Hunter had come barging in without permission a few days before, Courtney hadn't been able to feel too good. He had shaken her up in a way she wasn't used to. She hadn't really done anything wrong, aside from a few things which she sold under the table. He hadn't picked up on those, at least. But she felt watched, as if she was now on the radar for The Hunters, and that was the last place she wanted to be.

Shrugging on her jacket, Courtney reached for the light switch. Then the shadow fell upon her. The icy hand touched her shoulder, causing a scream to erupt from her mouth. She was tugged around to face him, a sickening grin crossing the only visible part of his face.

"You're coming with me," he hissed. Courtney shook her head, her mouth dry, unable to form any words. She tried to back up but she was already against the wall, no where to go as he advanced even closer. "I need your help with the door."

"W-W-" She wanted to scream again, to refuse him. Courtney's eyes were trying to find another way out. Her hand reached out slowly, edging towards the light switch, but he saw. His fingers gripped her wrist, yanking it towards him as she cried out in pain.

 _This is it_ , she thought. She had no choice but to be dragged forward into the shadows, tumbling into him, falling...into...darkness...


	4. Chapter 3

**Shadowplayer**

 **Chapter 3**

It wasn't so dark anymore. The colors were interchanging, flashing in circles and stars. Thoughts couldn't cluster, they spiraled outwards, dancing along the edges, threatening to spill into the void along with the rest of her.

Somewhere out there she could hear a whisper, her name playing on the lips of a distant sun. It sounded gentle, welcoming. Like she was going home after a long trip, and there was her family, waiting on the doorstep of the wooden cabin she's grown up fondly in.

But once the color drained from her eyelids, Courtney woke up to the forceful shaking of her body. At first she suspected a spell, but the hands gripping her upper arms were rough enough to leave prints.

" _Courtney!_ " The voice hissed again, but it wasn't the last person she remembered. It was someone she remembered though.

"I'm gonna throw up if you keep shaking me," she replied harshly. Or tried to reply harshly. Courtney's words fell flat, echoing in the small space where she was cramped behind the bar. "I thought..."

"That you'd been abducted by a crazy Shadowplayer?" Duncan smirked, finishing her sentence. "Us too."

The ceiling seemed very far away, but as soon as Courtney tried to get herself up her head was overcome with dizziness. She fell into Duncan who held her back to stop her from hurting even more.

"You need to see a doctor."

"I'm fine," she protested. There was only one person Courtney trusted with her medical needs, and it wasn't a human at the local hospital.

"You were sucked into a shadow," Duncan explained, not letting up his hold on Courtney's waist. "That's firstly very dangerous, but the side effects for those, especially after the first time you do, can be harmful."

"I know the risks," Courtney bit back. She tried to hold her tongue before she said too much, but the way Duncan came crashing into her space, telling her things that didn't concern him, it threw her off a very dangerous cliff. "I'm a Witch, Duncan. We all know the risks of the shadows."

She stood up, brushing him far away from her. That was when Courtney noticed the second guy sat on one of the stools, smiling fondly at the pair of them.

Courtney cleared her throat, moving towards a broken glass on the floor, on the far side of the bar away from the two Hunters. "Besides," she mumbled. "It wasn't my first time." A flick of her wrist and the glass came together in one piece, landing peacefully in her hand. She placed it back on the correct shelf, watching the confused reflections of the two men behind her.

Courtney didn't have a lot of experience with Hunters. She'd always stayed on the right side of their Law. It wasn't until she opened the bar that she even crossed the regular laws. The Hunters had never shown interest in her before, all she had ever heard was old tales from her family and her friends and her friends families. The older generations of Witches had more to say on the subject. Courtney had grown up learning both sides of the prejudices. Her grandparents were the type to go against the Law, they didn't believe Witches should have to conform to such silly Laws. They were extraordinary, they had the right to express it. He parents had been very strict about the Law, following every command ever given their way. Courtney still felt she was too young to know which side she belonged to.

"Do you know him?" Duncan asked, getting himself up from the floor. "The Shadowplayer?" Courtney shook her head. "Do you know what he looked like? Any distinguishing features? Birthmarks? Moles? Freckles?"

"He...I didn't see his face," she replied, staring down at her hands. "His hood covered most of his face...he had nice teeth, I guess. Well kept. Almost _shiny_. That's all I saw."

"Foreign?"

Courtney thought, the memory already trying to block itself out. "Not necessarily. But he was Latino, I think. His accent...it reminded me of my grandparents, they were from Panama originally, so they had quite thick Spanish accents." She was nodding her head, as if reassuring herself that this was true. She could feel the two of them staring at her again. "How did you get me out? Of the shadows? It's not an easy thing to pull someone out when they're already in...and how did you know to be here to do it?"

Duncan looked towards his partner and sighed. "We had a tip off, someone called the office and said they saw shadow activity in this area. I- when I was in here the other day, I was following someone I suspected to be a Shadowplayer. I lost him in the crowd, but I'm assuming he was the one here again tonight."

Courtney simply continued to nod as if she understood.

"What does he want with you?" Geoff spoke up, watching Courtney. She first found him suspicious, but one look at his face showed he was concerned. Courtney didn't know him, he didn't know her, there was no reason she knew behind his concern, but it was definitely there, etched into the crevices of his face.

"He just said...I don't know. He needed my help with..." Courtney trailed off, one hand suddenly clutching her head. "I can't remember. Nothing specific, I think. He just wanted me to go with him. Do you know who he is?" No one answered, but that was all the answer Courtney needed. "I want to go home."

Both young men moved toward her at those words. She backed up against the shelves, eyes darting between the two. She didn't know them, they weren't trustworthy. Courtney watched Duncan's partner signal for the two of them not to move any closer to her, sensing her uneasiness.

"This man, this...Shadowplayer, he's going to come after you again, Courtney. We have to make sure you're safe-"

"I can take care of myself!"

"Clearly," Duncan snorted, obnoxiously reminding her that he did just save her life.

"I was caught off guard, I-"

"And next time he'll call first to let you know?" Courtney took a step towards him, fist clenched. He didn't flinch. "You're not safe to go home, Courtney. Whatever he wants with you, I doubt he'll be nice about getting it."

"You don't under-"

"Shh!" Geoff hushed them. Duncan didn't stop talking.

"No, you don't under-"

"SHUT UP!" He bellowed, making even his partner jump. "There's something on the floor.

Geoff had moved to the far side of the bar, where Courtney was standing and where the Shadowplayer had been. Reflection from the lights was peaking against the baseboard and running outwards towards the bar itself. He crouched down and Courtney was now hovering over him, staring down at the silvery substance. They hadn't noticed it before, and Courtney had no idea what it was.

"Have you got a jar or something we can put some in?" He asked Courtney, who, without moving, called a clear mason jar into her hands. Geoff startled slightly, taking it from her with a slight shake of hand. He didn't have much hands-on experience with Witches who practiced their craft openly.

"What is it?" Courtney asked, not distracted by Geoff's reservations of her.

"I have no idea," he admitted. "We better get this back to the house."

* * *

 **A/N: Oh how exciting!**

 **I must say I am really proud of the opening two/three paragraphs pf this chapter are written.**

 **Are we feeling the story fall together a little bit more now? I am. And that really means something because I do not have any more pre-written chapters going on for this story, which means I gotta get cracking on writing some more!**

 **At current, this is one of four, maybe five, stories I'm working on, along with a plethora of oneshots that I can never seem to finish... So do be patient with updates, as always.**

 **Thanks for reading, please review (:**

 **Love, ChloeRhiannonX**


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